Long Convolution Poems
Long Convolution Poems. Below are the most popular long Convolution by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Convolution poems by poem length and keyword.
mind marooned
in
complex convolution
of
singular anonymity
morphs morbid
into
psychic silhouette
deprived despised
of
enlightened elements
of
acquired attributes
abruptly waned
reserved recess
conceals conundrum
of
sub-conscious search
completely clueless
for
exploration entreaty
as
persuasive ploy
of
outside world
can’t contrive
forsaken mind
pining prisoner
of
own making
captive cocoon
in
introvert isolation
innate vision
scans sightless
faces fading
in
fathomless oblivion
morphed mind
accepts acquiescent
archenemy Nemesis
makes a menagerie
of
moving mirage
mystique guide
to
illusion oasis
reflecting radiant
from
cobalt cauldron
confined contentment
of
identity reverence
self-veneration
pretentious perspicacity
of
fake facsimile
invents Narcissus
as
secret switching
over to obsession
as
senseless specter
languishing listless
beneath
opaque stratum
of
arctic acuity
as
petrified essence
in
darkness frozen
“A Reckoning of Illumination”
Autumn winds fall delicately upon my weary soul
Light from a heavenly place surrounds my interpretation of the scripture
Elemental hues of grace cascade down from the enlightened sky
A mystical proposition of truth sets the somber filaments of inquisition ablaze
As the Herculean sun lays bereft in the unforgiving atmosphere of the eloquent horizon
There we walk with reverence of all knowledge and wisdom toward the inherent peace of the celebrating land
Ensconced within an intimate haze of glory and intrigue
The chorus of an angelic choir vibrates through clouds
Reflective insight about the complexities of the entirety of man
Resounds in all it’s simplistic convolution, governed by the infallible laws of the natural world
A prayer from an innocent heart rings out through the land
The whisper of a Holy current moves, leaving glacial imprints upon the water
The gentle caress of emotional morning sunlight touches the surface of my skin
And I am bound by the integrity of this earth to continue to breathe
As the emblems and symbols of revolution evolve with the marking of a new dawn
Respite from the suffering of solitude descends upon the crescent moon
While the epitome of liberty and elation exalts across the sentimental elements of fire
Come toward me, together we shall depart unto this torrid pathway of uncertainty and lament
And brace ourselves for the beauty and bountiful exclamations of indisputable divine inspiration
As we lay there upon the ancient ground, listening to time itself combine with entropy
To create a never before seen moment of purity that transcends youth and hope and lies
So that we may return to our deliverance,
Where the weary souls must rest and wait for the essence of existence to reveal itself
Through the intrinsic absence of thought pouring through the atmosphere of our minds
Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2024
Is time the greatest illusion
I’m not waiting around to see
Deja vu causes confusion
so many echos from eternity
My birth a mere occlusion
from a past life I broke free
Deja vu works in collusion
with most supreme entities
Previous cycles of allusion
came pouring back to me
Deja vu and mass delusion
nervous breakdown maybe
Since my latest convolution
visions show where I must be
Inside a mental institution
a revelation No! you all agree
Deja vu contest
Sponsored By unseeking seeker
02/20/23
No Luck For The Masses
Reversed into a corner where there is no way out
Rehearsed by a performer who likes to scream and shout
Inverses like a reformer who doesn’t know what he’s talking about
A curse that comes from former earnings not to go without
Multinational corporations that occupy the economic terrain
Unilateral conflagrations that teach you best of all to abstain
Collateral in the conversations that leave you grimacing in pain
Bilateral renunciations that leave the desert drenched in rain
Devastations that demand solutions in order to comply to convention
Remonstrations of absolution that deny the condescension
Aberrations of convolution that are a bone of mass contention
Admirations of the communions of the divine Ressurection
Profoundly seeking absolution from a person bound by grief
Resounding personal solutions that require the blessing of a chief
Confounding immolations that imply the working of a thief
Impounding the convolutions that you want to remain brief
Stupefaction of the masses staring at their screens
Abstraction comes in flashes of animations, adverts and memes
Extraction of the molasses as they’re diluting your dreams
Retraction of the colossus that invokes a high pitched scream
No luck for the poor the broken the tired the vulnerable or maimed
A truck of sure defiance that protesting will remain
The stuck realm of more reliance is a place of unhealthy terrain
While the crux that bore all of this violence leaves you back out in that desert rain.
Copyright The End Elizabeth Moroz
Mind marooned
in complex convolution,
obscurity singular
in each living entity.
The psyche silhouettes
unique elements,
to alien attributes
they won’t adhere.
The reserved recess
hides the riddles,
sub-conscious search
completely clueless.
Probing entreaty,
the preserve persuasive
of outside world,
can’t contrive
the forsaken mind.
A pining prisoner
of own making,
a crumpled cocoon in
introvert isolation,
I see subsided
all the faces fading
faceless in oblivion,
me wedged secluded
in egoistic web
of self-adoration.
My morphed mind
turns Nemesis,
makes a mirror
of mirage for me.
Gazing gripped,
lurching to the oasis,
it’s only me
I always see,
reflected radiant
from cobalt cauldron
of the luring lake,
confined content.
In self-veneration,
a pretentious perspicacity
of fake facsimile,
I notice Narcissus
in me lonely lurk.
A secret switching
over to obsession,
specter senseless
lies latent,
languishes listless
beneath brazen layers
of arctic acuity
in the dark,
frozen…
You say you got the perfect solution
You say we need a total bloody revolution
You say no need for any lame constitution
You say death and violence is the resolution
You say you are the better substitution
You say you are for complete redistribution
You say only you can grant absolution
You say your power madness is natural as evolution
But
You beg for money like living in prostitution
Your ways would leave everybody in destitution
You are crazy and full of self-delusion
Your power mad wanting to inflict persecution
You think your smart but babble in convolution
Your lazy and want to rule without any contribution
You would be better seeking to live like Confucian
You are stupid and so is your political pollution
(11/26/2012)
It is the third of June at San Quentin in 1955.
A death row inmate will soon no longer be alive.
She has been dubbed “Bloody Babs” by the local press.
Barbara Graham is a convicted murderess.
For killing widow Mabel Monohan, she will pay.
Barbara is sentenced to die in the gas chamber today.
Barbara’s young life experienced many a convolution.
She had been in and out of jails for petty crimes and prostitution.
Never experiencing a proper upbringing in a peaceable home;
between California and Nevada, Barbara would aimlessly roam.
With two other men, into Mrs. Monohan’s house she would go.
Reportedly, the victim’s skull was cracked as she was smothered with a pillow.
Graham was executed after a second stay.
“Good people are always so sure they’re right” was the last thing she would say.
Inspired by the 1958 film “I Want to Live”
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.
Retrospective Inclinations
Inclinations toward the philosophical nature of mankind
Imitations of awe and wonder and the subtly refined
Insinuations of an action that is considered ill-defined
Illuminations of the atmosphere that circulates in her mind
Catastrophic consequences for those who refuse to consider cost
Misanthropic measures as they contemplate what they have lost
Philharmonic overtures that adorn the cultured and the loft
Telescopic telomeres that combine technology as she seems soft
Incorporations of conversations that imply a sense of dread
Consolidations of invitations that leave the bride unwed
Palpitations of consecrations that conjure inside her head
Affirmations of visitations that come and go from her bed
Luminous possibility among the distorted convolution
Furious credibility that promotes a transfigured delusion
Spurious eligibility as she writhed about in confusion
Injurious sensibilities that draw unnecessary conclusions
Awakening contemplations that preside in elevated thought
Mistaking conversations for something that can be bought
Berating intonations for a concept that needs to be fought
Negating imitations of a notion that is over wrought
Visionary eloquence forming from the twighlight sky
I am weary of the inference as the tears well in my eyes
Timothy Leary fades into irrelevance as the earth begins to die
Commissary for the petulance I feel from the nature of mankind
Radiance and insight fight for grace and kindness to emerge undefeated
The gradients of light that fractal outwards when repeated
Innocence and delight combine to have the malevolent deleted
Convalesce inside the retrospective thought that you have completed
The End Copyright Elizabeth Moroz 2025
A Wordsmith’s pen
Is mightier than the sword
For he can turn a tricky word
Into a verbal weapon
And win the day against the hoard
The words of the Bard
It’s not very hard
The turn of a friendly card
The changing of the old guard
The wicked witch is feathered and tarred
The sky above is dark and starred
It’s feeling out loud
The dancing of spirit abounds
The singing of the soul
The mind and body are whole
Although sometimes it makes no sounds
Manifestations of mental visions
Put to paper by steward, or vassal
On cotton, leather or papyrus passel
Seeing illusions and derisions
Inside the book, the bookmark’s tassel
Of words and dreams, and fantasies
Muses and fancies
Blissful and blithe
Demons and monsters, and zombies alive
Somehow the dead come back to life
Shadows and shades of torment
Ghouls and ghosts, and wraiths
Humans tear at their at the clothes and lament
And prophets forecast and forebode advent
Fortune tellers and soothsayers say
The mind screaming in pain
Devotion and emotion
Evolution and convolution
The sane are temporarily insane
The brain suffers erosion
To purify what has been defiled
Or deride what is pretentious
Celebrate what is momentous
Of the humors; blood and bile
Are both infectious
Soul speak
Affirmation of thought and deed
The lookers seek
All of those who have a need
Reap of the sown seed
Strong encourage the weak
Travels in time and place
Exploring inner and outer space
The Children of the Is
Sing the songs that were once His
Though the Old Man’s dead and gone
His legacy lives on
From dusk ‘till dawn
Memories in tome eternal
Glimpses of Heaven
Thoughts of Hades infernal
Rolling sevens and elevens
Immortal mortals
Of a limited time
Speaking in riddles and rhymes
This poem a babbling run-on thing
Pondering, wandering and wondering
A beautiful mind
It should be dismantled and dismembered
Fuses blown, circuits fried, wires unwind
The Dancing divine
When remembered…
Distressing Calls of Discontent
Distressing calls of discontent frowning upon my brow
Convalescing with the fall of a malcontent who was too haughty and proud
Coalescing in forms of consequence that are meant to be spoken out loud
Blessing the tall deliverance of being alone among the crowd
Interjections of circumspections for those crossing the civil lines
Mass contentions of introspection as we search for the divine
Condescensions from such pretension that it stupefies the mind
Predilections of inventions that are formed from those who actively look for what they find
Revolution from inside the homes of those who cant afford to pay their rent
Evolution of a Darwinian theory that Creationism circumvents
Convolution of a weary postulation that’s going around inside my head
Pollution of a planet that refuses to create a carbon dent
Microscopic elements under review for replication
Biopic relevance of a relative who is patiently genetically awaiting
Some myopic recognition of the claims that they are steaking
While I’m off the topic I’m still reeling from the borders that I’m breaking
Incandescent reflections that imbibe a lucid dream
Convalescent infections that permeate a populace to scream
Illuminesent interjections of light from the purity of a single sunbeam
Reminiscent of collections that are above the creation of a common theme
Musing always soothing my mind while ceasing the debate
Grooving all the time while I try to syncopate
Perusing all these ethical crimes that make one want to incubate
While using the refine to give and remain hesitant to take
Ammunition for another war that transcends national borderlines
Intuition used only for the expansion of mankind
Premonitions that abhor everything but the expansion of the mind
Nightly visions that store it all across the passages of time
The End